I think I underwent the most difficult experience of my Christian life to date this afternoon! On the bequest of my employer I visited the IKEA superstore in pickets lock, I say this is as no exaggeration, it was the most trying experience I have endured for what seemed like years. The nightmare started at the car park, just following the signs to the designated route of entry was trying enough in itself, but then having gained entry, negotiating the interior traffic flow system was way beyond the realms of the ordinarily difficult and into the chaos realms of Sheol.

Having parked and found the entrance to what I have come to realise in reality is Pan’s labyrinth, I made my way into the store. To say that this place was big would be a bit of an understatement! It was the size of two or three aircraft hangers, and I was searching for a shaving mirror. It may not be immediately apparent, but on reflection and upon the result of much prayer and meditation, my conclusion is that whoever is responsible for the design and concept, of the store is either:

a)      evil, and in the service of Satan, or 

b)      Seeking to study the customers in a bazaar version of a rat in a maze style test.

Either way, the first section of the trial is to find one’s way into the “showroom”, which is no easy feat! Finding a member of staff was about as easy as finding a piece of hay in a giant stack full of needles. However I did manage to track a security guard through the western mountainous region of the store, and after much prevarication he directed me to the “showroom”. The “showroom” was located at the top of the building next to the restaurant, it was deceptive in it’s appearance as it seemed to be no bigger than a 50ft rectangle, but like Dr Who’s tardis there was much that could not be seen until you were well into the it'd depths. There were arrows marked upon the floor, leading you through a plethora of house hold adornments, each section seemed to be bigger than the last, and each in some way more obscure. It was only after about fifteen miles, and I was lost in a temporal dimension known as "packing" that my pride was sufficiently battered to seek out another member of staff to help me in my quest for said shaving mirror. Finally I found a young woman who could direct me to the bathroom section where I managed to find the required article, then having procured it I attempted to make my way out. My thoughts were of Theseus at Knosos, seeking his way out of the Labyrinth, I wished I had taken a ball of wool.

I stood at the top of a flight of stairs purveying the landscape of the lower level where apparently I could find a till and pay. As I descended the stairs I found myself thinking of the parallels between my current situation and my spiritual journey into the absurdity of grace. I felt the Lord was showing me something very valuable through this hellish situation. You see I came into the knowledge and salvation of Jesus because I was in need of something, my life was not complete, I could no longer live anymore without a relationship with my Father. I had tried to shave for many years without a mirror, and it was not only foolish, it was very painful and rather ridiculous upon reflection, I needed something as simple as a mirror, I needed Christ. However, having entered upon the pretext of simplicity once I had found my way in I was presented with an enormous challenge, I had to find my way through a monumentally huge amount of unnecessary junk. It was almost as if someone didn’t want me to find the simplicity of the grace and agape of God, rather they wished me to become embroiled in a mire of unscriptural junk. In someway they wanted me to think it wasn’t a shaving mirror I was after, it was a shaving mirror, and a new house to put it in, and that house needed to be furnished with all this splendid regalia and they weren’t going to let me out until I had bought it all. 

The woman at the check out watched me put my shaving mirror on the conveyer belt, get my money out and wait till she had finished dealing with the difficult woman in front of me, she then asked:

‘Paying in cash Sir?”

It was then that she informed me that you could only pay in cash at the express check out, as I moved down to isle number five I thought of how many times my currency had been rejected in the kingdom, my works of self provision and righteousness, how pointless they are in this dispensation of grace, as soon as you get to the check out they tell you, ‘you cant spend those here’.

Upon leaving the store I made up my mind then and there that IKEA is not for me, never again will I brave the glory of man’s creation, never again will I allow what someone else’s perception of what they think I need confuse the simplicity of the truth. That is what is going on in churches up and down this land, the glory of the Lord has been replaced by the glory of man, and there is Icabod embossed upon the door. No matter how much of an impressive pile of junk there is inside the truth is not present. Let us remain in the simplicity of the truth of the gospel. Let us preach the simplicity of Christ and Christ crucified, and leave the complexity of modern theology to those who wish to navigate the perils and pitfalls of IKEA!!

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